Two of a Kind
by UndeadSpacewalker
Summary: "You're a stick in the mud with a stick up his arse! That's a stick WITHIN a stick. We're encroaching on mystic recursive voodoo territory here, Batsy. But...aw, shucks." He clasped his hands to the side and looked up at his nemesis adoringly. This should stick in the Bat's gullet. "You know I'd follow you anywhere. I hate AND love you for it." [pre-slash]
1. Chapter 1

_**Thanks to my buddy kai_152 for looking this over for me :)**_

_**In my head, this Joker has Mark Hamil's voice but Arkham Origin's looks. Oh and this is not related to my other B/J oneshot.**_

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><p><em><strong>UPDATE: Pop by my profile after you finish reading for some magnificent art by lovejoker! :D I only begged her a little bit. ❤<strong>_

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><p>"I don't understand! Please, just let me go! He'll pay you, whatever you want. Just please, oh god, I don't wanna die!"<p>

The Joker sighed theatrically. "Will someone _gag_ her already? I don't pay you lot for brains, but you'd think one of you could rise above and show a little _initiative_ now and again."

"Pleeaassee!" the blonde woman wailed, shaking so badly now that the chair she was tied to scraped audibly against the floor.

The Joker hunched his shoulders in irritation and threw her a glare. "Listen here, young lady," he began, stalking towards her and wagging a finger disapprovingly. "The more noise you make, the _shorter_ your lifespan. _That's_ the rule!"

"You can't get away with this! When _he_ finds out-"

She cut herself off as the Joker pulled a long knife out of each pocket, Cheshire smile nearly slicing his face in half. His eyebrows flattened, eyes narrowing dangerously as he leaned over and used the gleaming blades to tap out the _William Tell Overture_ on the armrests of her chair.

"Oh, _do_ go on," he goaded unctuously. "I insist! It'll be much more _fun_ this way."

"Here you go, boss." Ten feet away, one of the henchgoons held out the woman's cell phone that he'd finally managed to fish out of her purse.

The Joker strolled over and looked at the proffered device, then the knives he held in each hand. "Not enough _hands_, it seems... I'm just gonna, just ehm-" he plunged a knife into the man's chest, "-put that _there_ and..." Joker plucked the phone from the minion's quavering grasp and prodded his bleeding chest with an index finger. The man fell over backwards with a loud whump. "Thank you, my good man." He peered at the phone and tapped the screen with his thumb, stepping absently on the dead man as he made his way back over to the hostage.

"Let's see here...contacts, Roman, compose message... _'help the joker is going to kill me'._ Straight and to the point!" He tossed both phone and knife over his shoulders and placed his hands on his hips with an accomplished sigh. "Well. I'm off! Kill her." He turned towards the exit, whistling a festive tune.

"She's just a girl..."

The Joker froze with his hand on the door knob and inclined his head. "Your point being..." he asked silkily.

"It's just," the thug shifted his feet nervously. "I ain't never offed a woman before."

"Well _I_ don't care! If you don't, I'll gouge your eyes out and ca-_han_cel your vision plan!"

The goon frowned in confusion. "We get health insurance?"

The Joker smacked an open palm to his face. "Just do it. Leave the body. And mop up your _drool_ on the way out." He closed the door behind him just in time to muffle the shrieks within. He turned to happily survey the scene below him, spreading his hands wide. "Hiya, kiddos! Uncle Joker here to-"

He was cut off by panicked screams from the crowd below.

_"Pipe down til I finish my introduction!"_ he snarled, grabbing a submachine gun and popping off a few rounds into the ceiling until they cowed into tearful silence. "Right. Where was I?" He raised his chin pompously. "Uncle _Joker_ here! To turn your dismal grims into whimsical grins, eh hoohoo hahahaHAAA!"

A few people in the crowd looked confused.

"Yes, I'm using grim as a noun," he snapped with a few well placed glares. "People let Sha-_hake_speare make up all SORTS of words and he had a skullet!" He patted his non-receding hairline with a deep, calming breath. "I'm here to bring a sparkle of exci-_hite_ment to your otherwise drab and _listless_ little lives. Oh, and to tell you about the bomb, _hehe_. And that you'll all be dead in aboouut..." He dragged the word out, voice rising in pitch as he checked his broken pocket watch. "Twenty minutes. Give or take half an hour or so - _d'I'M_ not really sure, to be honest. _Thrilling_, isn't it?"

Silence. Hrm.

"You are now fuh-ree to panic at your leisure."

Ah. The comforting sound of a screaming mob.

He looked up instinctively to see Batman striding in as if he owned the place. Wasn't that cute?

"Bats! What _kept_ you?"

"Late night."

"Oh, _I'm_ sorry. Did I interrupt your beauty rest? Your butler-alarm have a late night too? _OOH_, maybe you had a late night _with _him, eh?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Not the best response, but it had been that kind of day.

A couple of Joker's goons tittered along with him and he glared them into silence. Normally he approved, but _these_ jokes were reserved for the Batman, not their limited, deadened, ignorant, _hollow_ funny bones. Anyone who laughed at flatulence lost the _right_ to appreciate _these_ jokes (temporarily ignoring the whoopee cushion rolled up in his back pocket). If they laughed, he was obviously slipping. He cleared his throat in embarrassment.

"Ahem. _Anyway_. Glad you could mmmake it. Now that you're here the sha-_how_ can go-"

"What's your scheme, Joker," Bats interrupted rudely, and with a degree of anger that the Joker felt was frankly unwarranted at this stage.

"Sca-heme?" he asked, aghast.

"Targeting a mall isn't your usual MO."

"I'm sure what you mean to sa-_hay_ is that's it's beneath me," he replied airily, buffing glove-covered fingernails on his coat. "Not my _style_." A slight twirl to flair his purple coat tails. "You may intend that as a compliment, Bats, but it _hurts_ me that you don't find me capable of blowing up a few nuclear families to smither_eens_ just for a couple of lighthearted poops and guffaws!"

"You don't-"

_"Hurt_, Bats," the Joker interrupted and clutched at his gut. "Right here," he said in a dramatically strained voice, belatedly moving his hand to his heart. A simple mistake, really. He'd had indigestion all evening. Henchmen were simply _awful_ at making pancakes.

Bats' eyes narrowed, but Joker knew he was rolling them on the inside and mentally added a tally to his column.

They were rudely interrupted as gunfire riddled the place. Not from his guys. Outside. Probably from a chopper, based on the trajectory, cartridge size and rate of fire. The Joker cackled and shot into the air wildly before tripping over his own feet and tumbling down the stairs. He tottered back to his feet, shivering at the knowledge that a bullet could hit him OR the bombs could go off at any moment.

_Was this not the life?! WHOOOO-_

A strong hand grabbed his arm and tugged. He followed it in the confusion. Vestigial survival reflex, or intuitive knowledge that it was the Batman? Who knew? Regardless, he allowed himself to be pulled out of harm's way just as the staircase exploded behind them in a shower of metal and concrete. He found himself pulled into an adjoining hallway, then office, then ventilation shaft.

Joker puffed out his cheeks and held his breath with Batman as they waited for the gunfire and screaming to slow. Then stage whispered: "So, Bats. _Me?_ Not an innocent hostage? You know they're all _dead_, right?"

"No, I don't," said Batbutt inanely as he dumped them both into a random office that was apparently under construction. "We have to get out of here. Soon. Thoughts?"

"Well. Between you, me and that _angry looking fellow sneaking up behind you_... Quite frankly, I'm worried."

Batman swirled around, cape billowing gloriously about him, Hammers of Justice at the ready, and the Joker brained him with a convenient two-by-four. Dipman fell in a lump, out cold.

"Gosh, Bats, way to be a total _chump_. Honestly, I'm embarrassed _for_ you."

Of course, that's when the first bomb went off.

###

Surprisingly, only three quarters of the hostages were killed by the blast. Joker made a mental note to _strangle_ the baboon who placed the bombs, particularly because _only one went off_ and they were _supposed_ to be rigged synchronously. Really though, he should have known better than to delegate such a sensitive task. Live and learn, eh?

"Oh god, why?!" a random hostage cried out after accidentally stepping into a corpse's mangled chest cavity.

The Joker perked up and made a beeline straight for him. "Ah. Nooo-ho-ho, see. The _thing_ is," he explained helpfully, putting a comforting arm around the man's quaking shoulders, and casually pulling out a knife with the other. "I understand your confusion - but the thing _is_: God is currently away on busy-ness. Don't worry your cute little head though," pat-pat-pat, "I'm fielding his calls! Call it exte-_hended_ community service. Now then, did you have a question?" he asked, face the very picture of innocence.

The man shook his head.

"A _concern_, perhaps?"

The man shook his head harder.

"A COMPLAINT then."

The man shook his head furiously. "No! No, no, no. No complaints."

"Excellent!" said the Joker with a magnanimous wave of his blade-wielding arm. "You won't _mind_ if I do this, then."

He gripped the man's hand in a vice-like grip and chopped it off at the wrist. Then he shoved him away and stalked merrily across the room before his suit got irreversibly stained.

"Won't anyone give the poor guy a hand? Lord knows he could _use_ one - eheheheehee haha_haaa_...aha... heh... Too easy? I never could resist a pun."

His goons laughed dutifully and a mollified Joker waltzed over to where Batman was currently chained to the wall. The man seemed to be finally coming around. About damn time.

"I hate you so much right now," groaned Dorkus Aurelius as he weakly tested the restraints.

_"Nonsense_. You look adorable!" Joker flicked one of the rounded ears on Batman's new, useless cowl (which Joker had been carrying around with him for FIVE MONTHS now, for just such a moment as this). "Just like Mickey Mouse. Or is that Minnie?"

Batman frowned further. Then he lunged forward to throttle him.

"Grghkah!" the Joker gurgle/choke/laughed, making a mental note to get shorter chains (promptly forgetting the previous mental note and thus saving a minion's life). "I need an adult. I NEED AN ADULT. Chkahahahaaa - oohhh wait. That's _me_, isn't it."

He kneed Batman in the crotch, a valid move now that the Batjewels weren't protected by armor plating. Batman wheezed and dropped like a stone. The Joker took advantage of the moment, tweaked the flower on his lapel and conked Bats out with his knockout gas. Done and _done_. Take note, amateurs.

It took him an entire _hour_ to figure out how to put on the Batsuit.

###

The Joker clomped forward in the oversized Batsuit (the man had forty pounds on him, after all) and pushed the cowl up past his eyes so he could see better. Not only were the eye-holes slightly misaligned, but the heads-up display made him nauseous. He didn't know how Batsy dealt with it. Batbelly of steel, no doubt. Whatevs, who needed it? He fiddled with the Batclaw instead.

"Oh _batshit_," he grumbled to himself, "how _does_ this contraption work."

Suddenly the Batclaw went off straight into the face of an unfortunate hostage. The man screamed, hands shaking in front of him as blood and eyeball juice squirted out of the punctured sockets.

"Hrm, well I suppose it'll take some practice," Joker mused to himself. "And give that _back_, will you?" he said to the man angrily. "I was _using_ that."

Joker mashed random buttons until the cord retracted and the man shrieked in agony as the claw literally ripped off his face. The newly faceless man collapsed, the crowd edging away and forming a circle around him as they tried their best to ignore his dying gurgles and wailing wife.

The Joker stared in awe at the flesh hanging off the end of the claw, absently motioning to a henchman to silence the annoying woman. "Bats?" he called tremulously without turning around. The woman's sobs cut off abruptly. A rattle of chains informed him that his nemesis had indeed awakened. "I _think_ I love you. I'm pretty sure... No, yep. I _do_. We're _eloping_ after this. I don't care what you say and I'm _getting_ your toys in the divorce settlement."

_"You're a monster,"_ Batman snarled in disgust.

"Sue me," said the Joker darkly. "Ooh!" He brightened. "Maybe we could get Two Face to represent! Heads for you and sca-_ratches_ for meee, ooh hoohoohoo! Ohhh, that would be a laugh and a _half!"_

_"Master Bruce? Master Bruce?"_ came a tinny, British voice in his ear.

That was unexpected. His laughter cut off involuntarily. What the hell - Master Bruce...Master... Bruce _Wayne?_ He had been just _joking_ before about the butler!

It couldn't be.

He stalked up to Batman, ripped off the mouse mask and squinted. He made a box with his fingers and turned his head this way and that. "Bruce Wayne? No, it _can't_ be. It can't _be_. Pfft, that's...boring. How anti_climac_tic."

Batman's eyes widened, making him look ridiculously and paradoxically innocent.

"Idiot playboy trust fund baby? Gawd, how _intensely_ uninteresting." Joker tugged the mask angrily back down over the...the _stranger's_ head, ignoring the grunt as Douche Wayne's nose got stuck in an eye-hole. "I am SO DISAPPOINTED in you!" he hissed through painfully gritted teeth.

And he was. He was...sad. He was honestly sad. His giggles deserted him, for the first time in... _years_. He was insulted. He was cheated. He should have known that no good could come of looking behind the curtain. Then Bruce growled at him. He growled like a wild animal with his lopsided mouse ears and strained against the chains and - damn it, if he _still_ didn't look like the Reaper himself.

Impressive, given those conditions.

_"JOKER!"_ Batman growled in a voice usually reserved to German thugs on Venom.

And then the Joker knew: Bruce Wayne was The Mask. It was so obvious! There was an instant rush of relieved pleasure as his mind latched onto the idea like a lifeline, whether it was true or not.

Crisis averted.

"No worries, Batty Boop. I won't hold your _mask_ against you," Joker said graciously. "Water under the bridge." He walked his fingers through the air with a fond look.

Batman looked confused. Point to Joker.

"See, I _understand_. You're still my fa-_hav_orite." He paired this with a winning smile, the kind that caused lesser men to soil themselves.

Batman however just looked uncomfortable, borderline bashful. A hundred points. Nay, _all the points._

"Bats can't come to the _phone_ right now," Joker said happily into the Bat-hat. There was a deliciously horrified gasp in his ear. "But if you'd like to leave a message at the sound of the scream..."

He giggled, pressed every button at once and shot the Batclaw back into the group of hostages.

Of course, that's when the second bomb went off.

###

The Joker awoke with a splitting headache to have Batman shove a lacy pink bra against his chest. Bat's other arm dangled limp and bloody by his side. He was redressed in the Batsuit, which thrilled the Joker more than he cared to admit.

"Hold this for a second," said Batsy as he crouched down to paw through the debris.

The Joker held the bra up to himself in bemusement. Were they in a lingerie store? "Appreciate the gesture, Bats, but you know I _don't_ think it's really my si-_hize_."

Batman glowered and snatched it back with his good hand, using his teeth to slingshot a small piece of rubble at the button on the far wall.

"Aww, sweets," cooed the Joker as he followed Batman through the newly opened gate and into the main thoroughfare of the mall. "I didn't _mean_ I wouldn't _wear_ it. It's the thought that _counts_."

"If that were true, you'd be dead."

"This charm is _effortless_ for you, isn't it? It just oozes out of your eh-ver-y orifice. Like pus. Or _blood_. Or blueberry syrup!"

"Joker."

"Yes, muffin?"

"Shut your mouth."

"Right-o. Consider this mouth officially shu-_hut_. Not a _single_ _solitary_ _syllable_ will escape this verbal orifice of mine, this glorious gustatory-"

Batman punched him in the face.

Joker giggled and wiggled a loose tooth with his tongue as they rounded the corner and came face to face with a hapless mall-walker. She fainted dead away at the sight of them and fell in a wrinkled, neon heap.

"My word. What an unfuh-_hor_-tunate looking woman," the Joker commented, hand itching towards his knife as they stepped over her prone form. "Heck, a bit of disfigurement would probably do her a world of _good_."

"Fortunately, that's not for you to decide."

"Well, aren't you the archetypal _stick_ in the proverbial _muck_."

"Joker-"

"Seriously, man! You're a stick in the mud with a stick up his arse! That's a stick _within_ a stick. We're encroaching on _mystic recursive voodoo_ territory here, Batsy. That's a bad sign in _anyone's_ book. Bad news _bat_, to coin a turn of phra-hase. But...aw, shucks." He clasped his hands to the side and looked up at his nemesis adoringly, dramatically. This should stick in the Bat's gullet. "You _know_ I'd follow you anywhere. I hate _and_ love you for it."

"Joker-"

"But those are just two words for the same tha-_hing_, am I right? Sssay, isn't there a _song_ about that?"

"What did I say about your mouth."

"That it's _luscious?"_

Batman inhaled deeply, calmingly, blatantly choosing to humor him. Point. "The other thing."

"Shut it?"

"That one."

"You know, with a daddy like Alfie I would have assumed you to have a greater se-hense of irony."

"Alfred is not my father."

"Come now, everyone knows the man _raised_ you. You do him a disservice by saying otherwise."

"That is none of your business and..." Batman gave him a sidelong glance, "strangely insightful."

"Tcha!" Joker scoffed. "Nothing strange about it. I'm smarter than the average bat, you know! On second thought," he tapped the side of his chin thoughtfully, "you probably don't. Me? I'm a sco-_holar_, baby!" He spread his hands wide as he struck a majestic pose. _"Caco ergo sum!_ I poop, therefore... I AM."

"Mouth," Batman prompted through gritted teeth.

"Stapled." It was much harder to mime a staple gun than a zipper. Who knew?

A few minutes passed. The silence bothered him. He squealed and leapfrogged over Batman's head, shoving Bat's face down into his chest. Batman struggled to regain his footing and glowered to the distant wall but didn't speak, didn't look, just continued walking. The Joker counted it as a success and suffered the continued silence in far better humor. After a few minutes, they rounded another corner to find a floor-to-ceiling pile of rubble. Upon closer inspection, the majority of rubble actually turned out to be the ceiling. Suffice to say, there would be no going that way.

"Through here," said Batman, leading them through a small side door. They entered a long white corridor, fluorescent lights flickering feebly above them with a dull buzz. Doors lined either side. "Let's split up, find an exit." He disappeared through a door on the left.

The Joker shrugged, opened the first door on the right and nearly walked into a wide-eyed security guard. He reached out and snapped the man's neck with lightening speed, daintily stepping over the corpse and tilting down to grab the man's nightstick as he passed. _"Pardon_ me." He sashayed through an office and opened another door on the far end. The next room appeared to be a locker/lunch room and there was another guard, this one standing with his back turned. Joker paused as the man spoke without turning.

"I noticed yer still leavin' y'gear all over da break room, ya slob."

"Well now isn't that _funny_. I noticed that too!"

"Listen up, wise guy," the security guard turned with a sneer, eyes widening and mouth dropping open in horror as the Joker stuck out a hip and twirled his new police baton saucily. "J-jo-j-j-jok-j-j-"

"I believe the words you're looking for are: Jumpin' Jehoshaphat! It's the Jolly Green Joker! Here to joyously juggle your internal organs and...and...hmm." He paused to feign an air of deep contemplation. "My, but J-words are _hard_, aren't they?" He shrugged. "Ah well." Then he smiled brightly, jumped on the man and savagely beat him to a quivering pulp. Actually, that last quiver may have been a death-twitch. Hard to tell sometimes. You'd think he'd have an eye for this sort of thing by now.

"Oh, Batsyyy! Through here!"

Batman strode in with a definite wobble, looking from the fresh corpse to the Joker with instant suspicion. Blast it, sometimes he really needed to give the guy more credit.

Time to think fast.

"Gee, Larry," said the Joker loudly, poking the dead man in the back. "You don't _look_ so hot. I _told_ you not to eat that enchilada."

"Haven't you done enough?" Batman sounded more tired than angry. "Leave him alone."

"Don't look at _me!_ I told him that place had _health code_ violations. All that blood in the cheese frying bin-cooker-things. What _are_ those called, Bats? I've always wondered. Well..." he muttered under his breath, "since about five seconds ago."

"Will you just - get over here and help me!"

"You know what your problem is, Bats?" The Joker dug a toe under the corpse and flipped it over. "No desire to learn about the _world_ around you. Take this fine fe-_hellow_, for instance." He crouched down and hooked his fingers under the man's lips, pulling them back into a gruesome grimace.

"Stop talking."

"Notice the discoloration of the gum line? Our friend Larry here had a _nasty_ case of gingivitis. This ought to teach us a val-yoo-able lesson on the _importance_ of good dental hygiene." He proclaimed this sagely, removing his fingers and patting the dead cheek so roughly that the head turned 90 degrees.

He looked up to catch Batman's reaction but the man was ignoring him, grunting and huffing as he struggled to wrench open the metal doors with one hand.

"Please, allow ME," said the Joker, hip-bumping him out of the way so hard that Batman lurched backwards and fell into a conveniently placed chair.

Joker rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck from side to side. He made a huge show of cracking his knuckles, lacing them in front of himself and arching his back. He spat on his palms and rubbed them together. He squared his shoulders, set his jaw determinedly and... leaned over to press a large red button on the wall. The doors slid smoothly open. There was a loud thump as Batman let his head fall onto the table.

The Joker ignored him and pranced malevolently through the doorway, only to receive a police baton three inches away from rupturing an eardrum. He spent the next minute or so attempting to ignore the ringing in his head and admiring the surprisingly high quality grout work. When he managed to both raise his head and focus on what he was seeing, it was to the image of Batman with his good hand on the guard's throat, pressing him against the wall so that his feet dangled a good six inches above the floor.

The man raised his hands. "I give up!"

"I don't care."

_SMASH - thump._

Batman swept away as if nothing had happened.

"Oh, hurrah!" The Joker clapped wildly as he mustered himself into a sitting position. "Encore, encore! Break his neck - I mean, er, a leg - I mean...oh, dash it all. KILL HIM!" Only the Batman had the ability to make him this flustered.

"No."

The Joker frowned resentfully, stood and stomped on the unconscious man's head when Batman's back was turned. Batman glowered dangerously when he glanced back, but Joker stuck his nose in the air and sailed regally past him. Or he would have if he hadn't noticed Batman's steps falter. His predatory pal swayed dangerously and the Joker reached out automatically with a steadying hand.

Batman shoved it off with a snarl. "Don't need your help," he growled and then immediately fell over.

Joker rolled his eyes and helped him to his feet, rolling them again as Batman puffed up ridiculously and instantly retook the lead, though moving noticeably slower than before.

"We'd better clear the blast zone before the next bomb goes off," said the Joker conversationally.

Batman stopped dead in his tracks. Joker bounced off him and fell right on his ass.

_"Oof_. Mind the caboose!"

"What next bomb."

"Didn't I mention? Huh. Could've sworn you were there for that bit."

"Where did you put it. How much time do we have."

"Oh, honeybee, these bombs aren't _mine_. Scouts honor! Cross my butt and hope to fry, stick some arsenic in my pie!" He grinned darkly. "And then have a piece."

"For all I know, you'll leave me to burn while you escape. I want answers."

"Now, Bats, don't play dumb. It's unattractive. I pull my endearing pranks, you hem and haw, we play our little games and it's just some good _wholesome_ fun between friends! When slice comes to dice, you know I would never actually _kill_ you. How could I?" He finally made eye contact, demeanor turning uncharacteristically solemn. "Out of everyone, you're the _closest_ to getting the joke."

Batman seemed speechless for a moment, electric-blue gaze flicking from one acid-green eye to the other, before quickly recovering. "You didn't answer my question."

Joker huffed._ "They_ are strewn throughout the facility and to be honest, I thought they were all going off with the first. If you die here, Batsy, so do I. So I would advise a _speedy blinking retreat_. Onwards! To honorable victory, my fair knight!"

Batman narrowed his eyes.

"Damn you, I'm serious! Now is not the time for dignity! Run awaaayy!" The Joker stared his nemesis down with wide, open eyes, lifting an arm and leg to mime his words.

Batman seemed to get the message and spun around to stride forward with honor, determination and great swiftness.

###

"Why hasn't the next bomb gone off yet."

"Chalk it up to the _depressingly_ expected result of employee incompetence," the Joker scoffed.

"I see." Six and a half minutes of silence. "How did you know about Alfred."

"Did my homework. I was going to kidnap you a couple of years ago. Hijacked the train you were on and the funniest thing _happened_. As soon as I get on the PA, Bruce Wayne disappears and Batman shows up. Guess I was too _distracted_ to notice the connection."

###

"Bats! I think I see an exit! Mayhap! I shall investigate forthwith!" The Joker dashed on ahead, ignoring Batman's cries for him to stop, to wait, to slow down.

He rounded two corners and burst into a dimly lit room. There was a loud click behind him. The Joker slowly turned around to see a cop with the word SWAT emblazoned on his bulletproof vest, a police baton in one hand and a pistol in the other. Pointed right at his head.

The man advanced on him. "The big man sure ain't happy with you, clown. Why you gotta always go after his women?"

"Now, now," Joker wheedled, hands held up placatingly in front of him. "Let's _talk_ about this, shall we? A civilized _discussion_. I'm sure we can come to _some_ sort of an arrangeme-"

A disorienting thwack to the side of his head dropped him to his knees. Geez, why always with the ears?

"This is for _stalkin_' his girl." The blows rained down and he fell to his stomach, feebly trying to push himself up with his hands, laughter bubbling out of him involuntarily. "This is for _offin_' his girl." A cracking blow to the back dropped him flat, followed by a blur of backhands and forehands to his legs as he laughed harder and tried to curl in on himself. "And _this_, well." The SWAT officer sneered down at him with a malicious glint to his eyes. "This is just 'cause I can, you sick fuck."

More vicious blows to the legs and back, intending to maim, to break, to cleave. Over and over and over and over and over again, the rhythm infuriating in its unrelenting predictability, anticipation nearly worse than the actual strike. The Joker's hysteric laughter evolved into giggle-gurgles as his lungs began to expel blood along with air.

At least the buffoon was leaving the money-maker unscathed. Odd, that. People generally seemed to _enjoy_ hitting him in the face. Joker was just debating whether or not to give in to unconsciousness when there was the sound of rustling fabric and the attack suddenly stopped. He groaned and lifted his head a few inches to check the damage. Judging by the odd angles, protruding bits of bone and blinding pain, the Joker felt it was safe to assume his legs were shattered into useless little pieces. This revelation might require him to elevate the threat level a bit. The status of _Mission ESCAPE_ just got officially downgraded from _'Already Gone'_ to _'Tricky'._

"Why are you after the Joker," growled Batman to the SWAT officer, who was being held predictably against the wall with a firm hand around his throat.

"Black Mask put a bounty on him - _hrrk_ - 60 mil for his...his head and 75 alive," the man wheezed.

"Black Mask."

"Lemme go and I'll split it witcha! Hell, you can have it all! You done mosta the work already."

"The bounty. WHY."

"I dunno, I swear! Does there hafta _be_ a why? It's the _Joker_, man! Who gives a shit!"

Batman's eyes narrowed to icy slits, apparently fed up with all this bullshit. "I do." He squeezed.

The Joker watched in awe. Threat level officially _decreased_.

Batman squeezed until the man stopped moving. Then he squeezed some more. Then he abruptly let go and turned away to cross the room, staring down into the corner with rhythmically clenching fists. Joker crawled to where the man dropped and felt for a pulse. He didn't find one.

"No pulse..." he whispered in awe. "He's dead... Bats?" he asked tentatively, not sure how to proceed now that he'd actually _won_. It was so casual, so sudden. He couldn't process it. Instead of the elation he'd always imagined, suddenly all he tasted was fear, a foreign flavor he could do without. What if it ruined everything? What if Batman_ quit playing?_

Batman straightened and stilled at the sound of the other man's voice, apparently taking it as final confirmation that, yes, that actually just happened. He turned to face the Joker, features impassive.

"This changes nothing."

The Joker grew a slow, broad smile that he didn't feel. "Yeah. Right. And I'm a monkey's masseuse. Come on, that way," he said, pointing to the door on the left.

Batman stared blankly for a moment before picking Joker up bridal style and going through the left door. "You knew about this didn't you," the Killer Bat asked finally.

"That you love me? Darling, I've _always_ known." Joker leaned back in Batman's arms with a gusty sigh and did his best to twiddle his broken legs. The pain was worth the irritated glance down.

"About the bounty on your head."

"Ah. I _may_ have stumbled upon it whilst picking the ol' grapevine."

"And the bombs were bait to lure me here so that I could protect you."

"Kudos, Bats! Way to use the old noggin!" he crowed, rapping the side of Batman's head with his knuckles. Probably best not to mention the fact that he'd tracked Sionis' innocent ladyfriend here and had her killed in cold blood. Bats tended to get huffy over things like that.

Still, one has to show these crime bosses that you don't just put a hit out on the Joker and remain unscathed. There are always, _always_ consequences.

Batman scowled and squinted an eye, jerking his head away from that pale, bloody hand. "I should have known."

"Captain Hindsight always did know best. Now _vamanos_, Battyguard!"

Batman obeyed in silence for a few minutes. Until: "Wait. If that's true, including the line about me 'getting the joke', then why were you trying to kill me earlier."

"I do have an _image_ to maintain. Also I find it rather invigorating."

Batman sighed deeply and trudged on.

###

"Come on, Baaats. _Talk_ to me."

Nothing.

Oh, this was _maddening_. Here he had finally _won_ this fateful clash of theirs, this cosmic jousting match. Sweet beautiful soul-fulfilling victory was HIS. But dark dribbling _damnation_ if it didn't feel like the exact opposite. It felt like the game was over. Batman. Wasn't. PLAYING anymore. This wasn't how it was supposed to be! He gritted his teeth and seethed. Deep down, he knew what he had to do. It took him twenty minutes to spit it out.

"You know you didn't kill that guy back there," he lied, immediately feeling sick.

Batman faltered in his movements. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

"You honestly thought you killed him? Puh-lease. You give yourself _far_ too much credit."

"But... his pulse. You said-" Batman cut himself off as he realized what a horrible defense he was about to make. "You... You lied."

"Well, partially. He really _was_ dead. It's just that _I_ killed him when your back was turned. To-hotaly had you going though, didn't I?"

Sweet Dahmer, it physically _hurt_ to speak. But, of course, he always was the stronger one. He'd play the martyric villain to protect his Batsy's innocence. At least, if it assured the game would go on. Hell, he'd take the blame for a _thousand_ kills if it meant that the Batman was still _his_. One had to prioritize, after all. Since Bats had just killed a man to essentially protect his honor (a bit too Light Knight for his taste, but best not look a gift equine in the pie hole), it was safe to say his instincts about the Bat and their 'relationship' was spot on.

Bats would kill. And not even the Joker, ohoho no. No, it was far, FAR better than that. He would kill FOR the Joker, to _protect_ him. To protect _him_. Essentially, he would kill whoever Joker wanted him to. Because let's face it: if there was one thing the Joker was good at, it was inciting homicidal wrath from dangerous people at will. All he had to do was say the right words, smile the right smile, plant the right bombs and BLAMO.

Angry Bat. Dead mark.

Ohhh, it was _heady_ stuff. No doubt about that. All he had to do was ensure that Batbaby thought it was Joker doing the killing. All this rationalizing was good for the soul. He felt better already.

###

"Batsy, isn't your arm broken or shredded or something?"

A grunt.

"You don't have to carry me like some distressed damsel. We are in a mall, you know. Find a shopping cart. I already know how _manly_ you are, you have _nothing_ to prove."

Batman faltered in his movements and then instantly made a beeline for the nearest store.

"Batsy," he continued babbling. Anything was better than the silence. "I have something very serious to ask of you." He could literally feel bright blue eyes turning down. "You _know_ it's not _like_ me to ask you for aaanything, so I hope you'll bear in mind how _difficult_ this _is_ for me. Batman. Will you...be my valentine?"

He was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Only his previous life experiences and slightly masochistic nature (cough) prevented him from passing out from the pain.

"I'll take that as a yes," he whispered hoarsely to himself.

Then Batman picked him up and unceremoniously dumped him into a shopping cart. His piecemeal legs twisted agonizingly beneath him and he passed out.

###

"Where are we?" he asked as soon as he realized he was awake, before opening his eyes or taking stock of his body.

"Almost to Arkham."

The Joker could hear the telltale rattle of a shopping cart on asphalt, the squeak and pull of the solitary rebel wheel, and decided not to bother opening his eyes. "Why..." he managed.

"Safest place for you."

He laughed humorlessly. "You really think I'll _be_ there tomorrow?"

"You'll be well guarded."

"Well guarded? Batbabe, I've taken over that place in a _single_ _night_. And I'm helpless right now. The entire city is gunning for me. You really think the odds of my guards _smothering me in my sleep_ or my doctor _accidentally euthanizing me_ are that low? Not to mention the actual _residents_ themselves."

Batman stayed silent and stubbornly continued on.

Joker tried a different tactic. "So this is it, huh?" he asked casually. "You're finally going to kill me. But you're too _sensitive_ to do it yourself. Oho, no. Just leave it to the nice staff and residents of Arkham. I understand, I _do!_ It's clean, indirect. Heck, you can even tell yourself it's not your _fault_, if you want to! Pah-retty smart, I'll give you that."

The cart began to slow down almost imperceptibly.

"Still, have to say I'm disappointed. Personally, I prefer more direct, stare-into-their-eyes methods. But hey. To each their _own_. I'm a big enough man to acknowledge your _victory_ for what it is. It's been fun, Batman. I wouldn't have _traded_ it for anything."

As he'd anticipated, the cart gradually slowed to a complete stop. He would have belted out a decent victory cackle if he didn't currently require that energy to _breathe_.

"Damn it," Batman swore under his breath.

Despite the automatic elation of hearing Bats curse for the first time, Joker couldn't deny that it was intensely disconcerting.

"Batman...?"

"Where's your base. You need a doctor. Do you have one?"

The Joker was stunned. Completely and royally astonished. _This_ he had not anticipated.

"I do, in fact... You may have heard of the Last Laugh Foundation..."

There was an ear splitting squeak as the cart spun around on its hind wheels.

"I should have known."

"It's completely overrun by Sionis' _vermin_, of course. Hence the necessity for today's events."

The cart stopped once again.

"Bats?"

Silence.

Joker cracked an eye open. Batman seemed to be having a pretty intense argument with himself. Fifteen seconds later, the cart turned in a new direction, full speed ahead.

"Where _are_ you taking me?"

"Home."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Poor Joker, I keep making him pass out all the time in my stories. I guess I just like the idea of Batsy staring at him mournfully in his sleep and lugging him around everywhere :3<strong>_

_**Feedback is appreciated!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**This story was supposed to be a oneshot, so I don't have an overall plan. This is what my brain regurgitated next. Shorter than usual, but I hope it's okay :)**_

* * *

><p>Dripping water. Rustling. Footsteps. Beeping. Echoes.<p>

The Joker tried to open his eyes.

Red.

The Joker actually opened his eyes.

Stabbing white light.

Two minutes passed. The blinding light became a single raw bulb, hanging motionless above his head.

He tried to move. Bad idea. Pain.

Bats, he tried to say. Silence.

"Bats." Croaking.

Then, again, rustling. The Bat's head filled his vision.

"You're back. Too bad."

Miss me? he tried to ask ask.

Batman's eyes squinted in what some might call worry, if they didn't know him as well as the Joker did.

###

"Where...where am I? What is this?"

"You're in the batcave. I performed surgery on your legs to the best of my ability, with some help. You'll be fine in time."

"I'm…" Joker lifted his head fully from where it had been sagging on his chest. He glanced down. He was wearing a cliche hospital gown, sitting in a wheelchair, legs invisible beneath twin white casts. He felt laughter bubbling up in his chest and decided to let it go. "Meheheh... mahaha, haheheehaha..." The Joker took a deep breath. _"YAAAA_hahahaHAAA, hahahaha_haaaa!"_

The last echoes of laughter faded away. There was a beat of silence.

"Are you done," Batman asked flatly.

"For now! Though I do suddenly find my throat to be quite parched. Be a _dear_ and fa-hetch me a glass of water, would you?" he asked, tilting his head and smiling sweetly.

Batman stared at him for a moment more, then turned and started typing into the keyboard without a word or backward glance.

Joker lifted his chin in offense and wheeled around the computer terminal, shoving his face between the monitors so Bats would be forced to see him, even if only peripherally. "I must say, the service here is _highly lacking._ Where's old Whatsizname?" He raised an upturned hand. "Alfie, the maid. Personally, I've always preferred a good _penguin suit_ to lace and garter belts. Good choice."

"It wasn't a choice. And you won't be seeing him. Ever."

"More's the pity. My stomach is starting to have an inte-_hense_ conversation with my backbone. Please don't tell me I have to resort to eating the _mold_ growing on the walls."

Batman leaned back with an oddly mischievous gleam in his eye. "Feel free to eat as much as you like. It's on the house. There's also a nice mud puddle over there, if you're feeling thirsty."

The Joker mentally gaped for a moment. "Weeell, aren't we the little comedian today." He grinned darkly and tilted his head to the side. "Very _cute,_ Batboy."

Bats looked less than pleased by this statement, but kicked pointedly at a box under the desk before going back to his work. Joker wheeled up beside him to examine it.

"Ooh, a mini fridge. How..._quaint_. Let's see what batsnacks we've got here..." He bumped Batman's chair to the side as he rummaged through it. "Water, water, _more_ water. And energy bars that no doubt taste like dirt. All the sustenance a growing bat needs!"

Batman rammed Joker's wheelchair viciously with his desk chair and the clown had to grip the edge of the desk as he was momentarily balanced precariously on one wheel.

"Are you hungry or not."

"Well, yes," the airborne wheel slammed back down to the ground, "but growing clowns require foodstuffs with a bit more..._umami,_ as it were."

"I'll have Alfred send some food down," Batman finally said grudgingly.

Joker straightened with a beaming smile. "So I _am_ going to meet him?" He tugged at the sleeve of his hospital gown absently. "Help me into my suit, would you? I absolutely _refuse_ to be outdressed by the hired help. Why do I have to wear this _ghastly_ thing anyway? Apart from the marvelous view of my pert backside." He gave an exaggerated wink.

Batman shot him a glare. "I told you, you won't be seeing him. I'll call and have him send it down the dumbwaiter."

Joker raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Dumb is _right,_ batbrain. Installed all the way down here? Into a _cave?_ My, but you _do_ have money to burn. No _wonder_ you have so many _wonder_ful toys." He picked up a remote controlled batarang off the desk and began to examine it curiously.

Batman froze, then turned and gave him a strange look, expression morphing into irritation as he wrestled the batarang out of the other man's grip. "I thought you knew who I was."

Joker met his gaze with a blank look. "I do."

"Then you know I'm the richest man in Gotham." He set the batarang down far out of Joker's reach and quickly grabbed the cryptographic sequencer the clown was now eyeing with interest. "I can buy anything I want."

Joker flapped a hand dismissively. "Money is nothing without the brains to use it."

"You're missing my point."

"Ditto, boopsie."

A pause. "I'm not the smartest man in Gotham."

"Of course not. After all, _I'm_ still alive and kicking! Well, not kicking per se. In a strictly metaphorical sense-"

"I'm not even the second smartest. I'm just the richest."

"Don't be coy. You're both."

Batman held his gaze for a while longer. The air was strange, almost as if some understanding passed between the two. Then Batman shoved the wheelchair and Joker clawed at him and things were back to normal.

Sort of. Whatever passed for normal these days.

###

"You know, toots, this wheelchair isn't half bad!" Joker popped a wheelie, fell flat on his back, rolled out of the chair and passed out from the pain.

His last thought was gleefully imagining Batsy's irritated face.

###

The Joker may have lived in abandoned, desolate buildings for the majority of his adult life (warehouses, estates, cargo holds, even an ancient, beached submarine for one memorable month) but he had never, _ever_ lived in a cave before. A damp, dank, dark, dusty, musty, moldy, moist hole in the bleeding _ground_. It was wreaking havoc on his circadian rhythm and, apparently, his immune system.

The Joker, you see, had a cold.

Batman for one was shocked at the first sneeze, gaping openly. His most hated enemy seemed so inhuman at the best of times that it never occurred to him that the Joker could actually get sick like a normal person. In the end, he was partially right. The Joker did not get sick like a normal person.

_"WhaaCHOO!"_ A loud sniff. _"Goodness,_ that makes eighteen in a row. Call Ripley!"

"Must you be so cheerful. And cover your mouth."

"Of course I must! It's almost Christmas! You know..." Joker threw an arm around Bats' shoulders. "I think I feel a sssong coming on! Jingle bells! Batman smells!-"

Batman punched him in the face. Hard.

"Bell he used doo," Joker said through pale fingers clenched over his nose. "Hard do dell dese days." Then he sneezed and blood spurted between his fingers. "Dinedeen."

Batman had the decency to look semi-contrite.

###

"Where are we going?"

"I need to visit Penguin, find out what I can about Black Mask's plans. Since you," Batman grimaced, _"ate_ the cell keys, I can't leave you here alone."

"How exciting! We're like partners now! You just hold him down and give me the pliers. I'm _more_ than happy to do the dirty work."

"No. I'm handcuffing you to the car."

"Oh god, not those ridiculous batcuffs, please. It's humiliating."

"You broke those."

A pause. "Oh. What _foresight_ I possess!"

"Shut up and move."

The Joker whistled as they strolled down the walkway towards the Batmobile. Well, Batman strolled while Joker clomped along twin crutches. Halfway across, Joker's movements apparently startled a bat that had been sleeping in a crevice near their heads. It shrieked and zoomed out in front of them. Joker shrieked in reply and windmilled his arms at it, dropping his crutches and somehow managing to slap the bat down. It flopped feebly on the ground, left wing mangled, half of its face smashed in, squeaking pitifully.

The Batman and the Joker stood side by side, gazing down at it nonplussed.

"Huh," said Joker. "Does this happen often?"

"We need to put it out of its misery," Batman stated firmly, eyes uncertain. He moved to reach for it, then hesitated as it hissed.

"Don't mind if I _do."_ Joker picked up the bat with one hand and happily snapped its neck with one graceful twitch of his fingers, before tossing it over his shoulder into the chasm. "Well!" he said brightly, rubbing his hands together. "That was mildly entertaining. Let's find some more!"

"You're unnatural."

"Shampoo is unnatural. I'm quite _talented_ at what _I_ do."

"Just take your damn crutches and let's go," Batman growled, offering said items to Joker with an evil glare.

Joker couldn't help a tiny, automatic shiver. "Oh, _Batsy._ I simply _adore_ it when you curse for me." He tried his best to look lascivious and sidled closer. "Say it again, babe."

Batman stabbed at one of his injured legs with the tip of a crutch before throwing them both at him. Joker howled in pain and barely managed to catch them before tumbling backwards off the walkway. Batman's eyes bulged and he lunged after him, latching onto Joker's arm with a bone-bruising grip and yanking him back up and onto his feet. He carefully handed him the crutches and avoided eye contact as he brushed past him towards the Batmobile.

The Joker blinked owlishly and limped after him in silence.

###

Cobblepot had apparently given Batman some type of lead, though he refused to share it with the Joker. The time and location of some type of meeting, _apparently._ It was extremely insulting, this _lack of communication,_ not to mention _boring,_ but the Joker was still healing and as long as Bats was working _for him,_ he supposed he could let it go. For now.

There was a small warehouse outside of the Sionis Steel Mill which Batman had entered over an hour ago. Joker had no idea what was going on inside but his instincts told him that Boopsie was long overdue. Something had gone wrong. A column of dark smoke began to waft from the far side of the building and Joker spat out the paper clip under his tongue without a second thought. A bit of fiddling and the handcuffs popped open easily.

Joker stretched languidly as he stepped out of the Batmobile, thanking the great turtle in the sky that he'd been able to abandon the crutches last week, and made his way to the entrance, peaking inside with curiosity. It was dark, but that may have been the smoke.

"Don't worry, Batsy!" he called in. "The cavalry - has - arrived!"

"Stay outside!" A hoarse voice floated out towards him.

He paused, frowning and twitching with energy. "What_ever_ for?"

"FIRE!" Batman bellowed from somewhere further in.

_"Ooh!_ Sounds like _fun!"_ Joker shouted back gleefully, grabbing a large red container out of a pile of similar ones just inside the doors and rushing inside towards the blaze.

Batman ran to meet him halfway and knocked the gas can out of his hands. Joker shrugged with upturned hands and an innocent smile. Then he grabbed the other's hand and pelted full metal towards the entrance just as the flames reached the growing puddle of gasoline. The blast flung them through the doorway, rolling over and over each other until they finally came to a stop in the middle of the road.

The Joker lifted his head from Batsy's neck, panting and grinning deliriously at the burning building. The flames reflected in his manic eyes, making them dance, his left eye half hidden behind a wayward curl of bright green hair.

"It's...beautiful," he breathed, glancing down at his nemesis.

Batman was staring up at him intensely, expression unreadable.

The whine of a distant fire truck reached their ears, growing gradually louder. People began to fill the far side of the road. There were whispers, stares, pointed fingers. The Joker was shoved harshly to the side as Batman rose in one fluid movement. He leaned down and dug his fingers into the nape of Joker's neck, dragging him up and pushing him ahead in front of him.

Joker stumbled towards the Batmobile. "Hey, watch it!" he protested crossly. "What's the big idea - stop that!" Batman gave him an extra hard shove and he smacked into the car hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He managed to turn and leaned heavily against the side panel in bewilderment. "And this was turning into such a _romantic_ evening," he said with a tiny despairing shrug.

"Shut up!" Batman growled, far too loudly for standing a mere foot away. "Your game is over Joker! I'm taking you to Arkham where you belong."

Joker's eyes lit up in alarm and he pressed himself further into the vehicle, away from the Bat Demon. "To Arkham! But I thought-" The scissor door suddenly lifted behind him and he toppled backwards into the passenger seat.

Batman entered the driver's side, closed the doors and they roared away down the road, a growling black streak cutting through the city like one of Joker's blades through flesh.

Joker felt numb. He couldn't understand it. He didn't even want to _look_ at Batman, couldn't _stomach_ it. He leaned his head against the cool glass window and watched the lights of the night blur past them. After a few moments, he frowned even further.

"We just passed Arkham."

Batman gave him a sidelong glance. "We aren't going to Arkham."

Joker's brows furrowed in confusion.

"People were watching."

"People were..." It clicked. _"That_ was for _them?"_ He scoffed furiously. "It's always about them isn't it? So typical. It's all for them, but if they knew who you really were, what you've _really_ been doing, they'd shoot you on _sssight_." The last word came out as a deadly hiss.

Batman remained stoically silent.

The Joker stared at him for a moment, thoughtfully. "You feel like the noble parent, don't you? So your little brat screams and wails and _hates_ you. So what? It still needs it's shots, right? Can't have it getting _rabies_ and trying to eat Fluffy. Little Jimmy's hatred is a _small_ price to pay for his _safety."_

Batman glanced at him again. "So you understand."

"I understand you're an _idiot!"_

Batman's jaw clenched and he turned back to the road.

"You're a fool if you think my little tale applies to _you._ These ignorant proles aren't your _responsibility._ HA! You've... you've got this whooole," his voice rose in pitch as he twirled his index fingers on either side of his head, "little bat _narrative_ in your little bat _mind_ about how these people need you, about how they'd all _love_ and _appreciate_ you if they only _understood."_

"Be quiet."

"Oh, but they can't understand! They can't know who you are, for their own good! Right?" he asked with faux excitement. "Wrong!" His eyebrows flattened. "It's for _your_ own good. Because if they knew," he tapped on the window, "then they wouldn't thank you. They'd laugh at you, throw this farce in your face for what - it - is and punt you into a cell rrright next to mine. We'd be neighbors! Now _that_ thought brings a smiiile to my face." He sighed with a wistful expression.

"Your words mean nothing!" Batman finally spat out. "You're crazy."

"Well, you got that right. And we're two of a kind, baby."

Ten minutes of silence.

"By the by, Batsy, I think that last key I swallowed might have torn _something_ a bit on the way out. I don't suppose you, as my doctor, would be willing to take a look?"

_"NO."_

"Okay, okay, can't blame a fellow for asking."

Two more minutes of silence.

"Are you sure? Because there's a slight pain in my-"

_THWACK._

Blessed silence for the rest of the trip. At this point, Batman was used to carrying him anyway.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Once again, FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED :) I've gotten tons of hits, but without comments I can't tell if you guys actually like this or not. If you do, drop me a quick line. It only takes like 30 seconds and I will love you forever. That's a good deal.<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

_**As per request, this chapter is Batman's POV. It didn't come out as well as I'd like, feels kind of forced, but I think it's okay for a first attempt. He's a lot more difficult for me to write than Joker :/ I'll get a better feel with practice.**_

_**It's like 2AM so I'm a little out of it, but I'm just gonna post this and hope for the best .-.**_

* * *

><p>Batman refused to look for the key.<p>

Absolutely refused.

Knowing the Joker, he probably left it out somewhere hidden yet visible, where he knew Batman would stumble across it eventually. On his chair, or near the stickshift of the Batmobile. Anywhere that would prove to be the best eventual middle-finger to his ego.

Key-searching was emphatically off the table. Instead, Batman dragged the key-making machine out of a random closet (that he used for storing random machines that may or may not prove to be useful at a later date). It was similar to the type of machinery they had at hardware stores or the Auto Center of Walmart, except this device could replicate a digital key as well as physical keys. He heaved it onto a dolly and steered it beside his workstation, before sitting in his desk chair and pulling up blueprints on the computer.

The Joker sighed and snorted from the cot nearby and Batman glared at him, instantly on the alert. Judging from the drool, the clown was asleep. It still felt like a slight of some kind, as if Batman was being mocked. Joker sniggered slightly, ending in a huffing snuffle and Batman's eyes narrowed. He probably _was_ being mocked, even if only in the other man's dreams. He was sure the clown dreamed about him. After all, even _he_ dreamed about the Joker sometimes. They clashed so often it was to be expected. At least, that's what he liked to think.

The only difference being that Joker's... ob_session_ essentially guaranteed that Batman was at the forefront of his mind at all times. He probably dreamt about him constantly. He was probably dreaming about him right now...

Batman rolled his chair closer without realizing, too intent on watching the Joker's peaceful features as he slept. It was strange to watch him sleep. Very strange. His jaw relaxed, his brow smoothed, the corners of his mouth drooped. He looked serene. He looked..._kind_.

A ridiculous concept. Fanciful. Foolish.

The Joker huffed again and absently swatted hair out of his eyes, arm falling to hang off the edge of the cot. He was a very mobile sleeper, always moving, fidgeting, rolling over or swatting at imaginary foes. Luckily it hadn't escalated to sleep-walking. Batman would hate to have to - well, he _didn't like the idea_ of having to strap him down. Joker probably got enough of that at Arkham to last him a lifetime. In the years they'd known each other, Joker made enough straightjacket jokes that Batman could tell the clown was less than fond of them, or restraints of any kind.

"Nngh," Joker groaned in his sleep. His face scrunched up, brow creasing. He was upset, and quite vocal even when unconscious. No surprise there, really.

Batman rolled slightly closer, fascinated against his better judgment.

"Ohhhh Bats…iss you..." Joker mumbled, face suddenly smoothing out again, even more relaxed than before. He gave a small, soft smile, vastly different than his usual shit-eating grin, and turned to the right, towards Batman, curling slightly in on himself. He began to snore lightly, shoulders drooping, abs visibly unclenching even through his clothes.

For the next twenty seconds, Batman found it a bit hard to breathe. He glanced over his shoulder at the key-making machine, then back at the Joker. He rose and wheeled the device back into the closet.

###

"I won't go back in that cell! I won't!"

Batman resisted the urge to sigh in irritation. "It won't be locked. Think of it as your room."

"A cage is _still_ a cage, whether by force or voluntarily. You if all pa-heople should know _that."_ The clown said this in his usual, disgustingly pompous manner.

Maybe it was the fact that Joker was fully dressed in his usual dramatic getup, maybe it was the fire in his eyes, maybe it was a reason Batman didn't want to acknowledge. In any event, Batman _did_ have to admit the man had a point.

Still: "There's nowhere else to put you."

Joker scoffed loudly and gave him a look that spoke volumes to the low esteem of his intelligence. "There's a _mansion_ sitting above our heads! Surely you have a room or ten _available_ at the moment."

Batman glowered. "You're not allowed into my home."

"Who do you think you're fooling? _This_ is your home."

For a moment, he couldn't do anything but stare. The Joker was right, of course, but he hadn't really thought of it that way before. And he didn't want to. This was _not_ his home. It wasn't.

"You're wrong."

Joker raised a single green eyebrow before rolling his eyes and throwing up his hands theatrically.

Mocking him.

Again.

Batman scowled. "It's the cell or the rock you're standing on."

The Joker shot him a furious look, then lifted a polished shoe and to see what was underneath. He lifted his chin and spun with a flourish. "This isn't over, Batman," he tossed over his shoulder as he made his way back to the cell.

With no one to see, Batman didn't bother hiding the curve at the corner of his mouth.

###

"What _are_ we doing here? You never tell me _anything_, Batsy," Joker complained. Loudly.

A little info couldn't hurt, though. He owed Joker that much. _(Why?_ a voiced asked in his head. He ignored it.) "That fire outside Sionis' mill was no accident. I was set up."

"Ozzy pulled the wool over your eyes, eh? Honestly, Bats. He's a _fat bird_ and a _hack,_ with a horrible sense of fashion, I might add. All those monocles and umbrellas. Tcha."

Batman remained silent. He was embarrassed enough as it was; silence seemed the best option. He threw his shoulder into the front door in lieu of a response and the whole thing collapsed with ease.

"I don't suppose it's too much to hope that you taught him a lesson of some sort," the Joker continued to chatter behind him. He became thankfully silent as they entered and began to pick their way through the blackened, charred remains of the Iceberg Lounge. After _almost_ one minute, Joker gave an impressed whistle. "Boy, what happened to _this_ place."

"Seems like a patron was careless with his lighter at the gala last week."

"What, that _ridiculous_ charity ball thing for all the cretinous mucky-mucks?"

"The very same."

Joker's eyes widened as he stopped dead in his tracks. "You're saying _you_ burned it? As Bruce Wayne?"

"Oops."

A slow, honest smile grew on Joker's face. His eyes actually crinkled with pleasure and Batman couldn't deny the warm sensation curling in his chest. He turned abruptly away and continued on towards his goal.

###

They split up to cover more ground, searching for anything even remotely resembling a clue amidst the debris. Of course, this didn't stop Joker from shouting his ear off from another room.

"And then I said, you're _killing_ me! HAHAHAHA! Err, get it Batsy? I know you do, it's a _horrible_ joke!"

Batman grunted loudly enough to be heard. He could practically feel Joker's smug smile in response.

"Then I slit his throat of course. Don't even _bother_ with a projected caveman response, I _know_ you're glaring at me. You're such a girl scout, it's impossible _not_ to predict. So tell me, who do I have to kill to see your _mansion?"_

Batman didn't bother responding as he was currently fighting off eight goons who had burst out of nowhere.

"Bats?"

There were so many, it was a losing battle. He still had a chance though, a chance... Another goon materialized with an assault rifle. He wasn't prepared and took ten rounds to the chest. Even with advanced Kevlar, he could feel his ribs cracking, shattering from the impact...

"Batsy?!"

His weakened state left him open to a vicious blow. The last thing he saw was Joker's horrified face in the doorway before the thugs closed and barricaded it shut.

###

Batman awoke tied to a chair with a single guard, who was facing the door. It was laughably obvious that Penguin was not giving direct orders. He ignored the burning pain in his chest and abdomen and flexed as hard as he could. The ropes binding him burst in the usual way and he pounced on the guard with mechanical ease.

Batman gripped the man's arm. _"Where is Penguin."_

The thug stared up at him, eyes blown wide in terror. Batman's hand tightened and he felt something crunch under his palm. His heart berated him but he couldn't deny a certain vicious pleasure.

Killing was unacceptable. Maiming was not.

###

Batman stalked into the room and dissolved into the shadows, pausing to catch his breath, not to observe the Joker. Definitely not that.

"I'll ask you only once more. Where is Batman?" It was painfully obvious the Joker was attempting to mimic him for his own amusement. The effect was disgustingly... endearing.

"I'll break your arms first," the man said in a low rumbling tone, voice rising with each word, straining vainly against his restraints. "Then your legs. Then your _nose_, then your _neck_. Then I'll _flay you alive! I'll crush your bones and mix it with your blood and make your loved ones EAT IT!"_

Batman automatically felt sorry for the fool.

"That's nice," said the Joker, patting him on the head. "Two points for enthusiasm, but minus twenty for originality and style. You sound like a _Disney_ villain. I'd be vicariously embarrassed, but it's hard to be embarrassed for an insect under your shoe. It's more tragically _inevitable_, really. If only your parents had been more _abusive_, you might have more effective thrrreats in your arsenal. As a _progressive_ citizen," Joker closed his eyes and placed a splayed hand on his chest, "I know it can't be held against you personally, so no worries. _I_ won't judge you for it."

Batman rolled his eyes from the blackness.

"You're a dead man walking," the man hissed.

"You know what I do to people with negative points?" asked the Joker, ignoring him completely and tapping his knife on the man's cheek.

"Kill them?" The man's face was the picture of stubborn fearlessness.

"Well, eventually, sure! But I think you, as a professed _expert_ in these matters, will agree that's a bit blasé. No. I have a bit of fun. And _nothing_ is more fun..." he leaned in closer, maintaining skewering eye contact, smile widening to a dangerous degree, voice dropping an octave, "...than _pain."_

True fear flooded into the man's eyes. As if that was his cue, the Joker swooped in with his knife and Batman decided enough was enough. He threw a batarang with practiced precision, knocking the blade out of Joker's hand. He was completely enveloped in pitch-black shadows, he was _invisible_, and yet somehow Joker's acid-green gaze swirled and latched straight onto him, straight onto his _eyes_, as if he could see him plain as day and there was nothing strange about it.

Batman would deny the concurrent shiver down his spine until the day he died.

"Holy crap on crêpes!" Joker exclaimed nonsensically. "What are you _doing_ here? I was just about to rescue you!" Goddamn if he didn't throw in a pout too. Of all the nerve.

"Before or after you tortured this man."

"Well, after, obviously. But I was going to be _quick_ about it, honest."

Even after all these years, Batman couldn't quite tell if Joker honestly missed the point or if he was just fucking with him. He let the clown get to him way too damn much. But even if he couldn't tell in the moment, experience screamed the latter.

"Why don't I believe you."

"I don't suppose you could turn a blind eye for a couple of minutes." Joker smiled hopefully, with an innocent expression that was the complete opposite of his intentions.

Yes, even after all these years, it still threw Batman, but he ignored it and narrowed his eyes. If there was any proof needed that Joker could see him, it was the clown's immediate reaction to that tiny movement. How was it possible? No one ever saw him. Batman couldn't deny the second shiver, even to himself. This was getting dangerous.

"Alright, alright," Joker said hastily, turning to his captive with a sulky expression. "You got off the hook _this_ time, Barnaby."

"M-m-my name is Bob," the man stuttered.

"Whatever, Brad. You're lucky the Angel of Death is on your side. Remember what I said and _practice_ your threats." Joker glared daggers at his victim before loping into the shadows to Batman's side and gazing up at him expectantly.

Batman led the way out without hesitation. He'd already learned what he needed anyway. "Angel of Death?"

"Just an intimidation tactic, Batsy. Don't take it too seriously."

"So long as Gordon doesn't get wind of it."

"Why would he? Oh and in case you were wondering, which I've no doubt you have been, my rear has healed quite nicely, tha-_hanks_ for asking."

If Batman had less self-control, he might have paused awkwardly at the unbidden and unwanted mental image that sprang to mind, or snorted in amusement at his nemesis' shitty and bizarre timing. For the record, he had _not_ wondered. Not really. Maybe in passing, but that didn't count. It was more of a subconscious thing, and the subconscious didn't exist as far as he was concerned.

Instead, he schooled his features into perfect impassivity and shook his head disapprovingly. Still, as much as he tried to block it out, he couldn't deny the thrill of the sound of Joker's footsteps as he padded docilely, trustingly, behind him.

"Come on, Joker. Let's go home." He waited, breath shallow.

"Okay."

He didn't need to turn around to see that soft, unusual smile.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I know there's not much bat-pining, but at this point I think he's in too much self-denial to really recognize it for what it IS yet...<strong>_

_**Also, thanks OODLES to everyone who left feedback! Especially the guests who I couldn't reply to **throws out lurv** Feedback definitely motivates me to write faster :) It's way more fun this way**_


	4. Chapter 4

Today was the day.

Today was the day the Joker entered _Wayne Manor._ (Cue ominous, dramatic music.)

It had taken him over a week, but he'd finally cracked the code to the subterranean glass elevator that launched into the estate above. The reason it took him so _blasted_ long? Because he'd been giving the Batbrat far too much credit, as per usual. Just what, you may ask, _was_ the illusive password to the illustrious hi-tech lift leading to the most secret chamber of one of the smartest and richest men in the entire _world?_

Th0m rtha.

That's right. _Th0m rtha._

Absolutely ridiculous. He was expecting some sort of bizarre, twenty character, randomly generated thingymabob. Not a bloomin' portmanteau of Bats' dearly departed parentals. It was an _insult_.

Joker scoffed and tsked and huffed all the way up. He did it some more as the elevator finally slowed to a stop. He became positively _ruffled_ with indignation as the door slid open and a bookshelf twirled around in front of him. He stalked angrily and in a very unimpressed fashion directly into the library where...

Oh.

...Where Batman, currently dressed as Bruce Wayne, was sitting at a small table directly facing the false bookcase, eating what looked to be a very delicious sandwich.

An elderly, balding chap with a pencil mustache stood beside Batman, carrying both a silver tray and an air of eternal boredom. "Ah. I see that Sir has decided to grace us with the dubious delight of his presence. I'll fetch another sandwich." Then he strode calmly out of the room, as if the Joker popping out of a bookcase during teatime was a perfectly ordinary occurrence.

Joker stood stupidly frozen in place, one eye wide open with the other nearly scrunched shut, mouth forming a small 'o'. Then he straightened haughtily and clasped his hands behind his back, trying desperately to appear as if this was _exactly_ the reception he had been expecting.

"Have a seat, Joker," said Batman graciously, motioning to the chair next to him.

Joker obeyed, still slightly stupefied. "Sooo, ehm..."

"I was wondering when you'd finally crack the new password. It's been nearly a week."

Actually it had been eight days, but the Joker wasn't about to correct him.

"Maybe if it hadn't been the password of a geriatric _Luddite_ I would have gotten it _faster,"_ he shot back disdainfully, crossing his legs and throwing an arm over the back of the chair, hand hanging inches from Bats' shoulder.

Batman flicked his eyes to the ceiling and the Joker was _so close_ to getting that eye roll. "That's always your problem, isn't it? Overcomplicating things."

"Oh, that's _rich_ coming from you. I know about that switch in the aquarium."

Batman looked startled. "How-"

"Your arm is always sopping wet when you come sliiiding down that absurd _tube_ of yours."

Batman looked away and took a huge bite out of his sandwich. "Figured you'd like the tube," he muttered around half-chewed food.

"D'aww." Joker clasped his fingers under his chin. "Did mummy and daddy not take you to enough amusement parks when you were a little batling? Oh, _that_'s right." He snapped his fingers. "They both got _shot in the head_ before you were tall enough to ride anything but those swirling ta-_heacups_. Too bad." He pulled a long, sad face.

Batman glared dangerously. Mayonnaise squirted onto his $400 sweater-vest as the hand holding his sandwich suddenly clenched in anger. "Joker..." he warned.

"If I'd known about this slide fetish of yours I would have put a couple in my last Funland. Before you _wrecked_ the place, that is. Ooh, maybe with a _cozy_ little vat of acid at the bottom." His eyes glazed over happily as he imagined it. "Splish-splash, watch them thrash! Uheheheheee..."

"Aren't you going to ask why I allowed you to come up here," Bats interrupted.

"Oh puh-lease. I would have made it up here eventually." Batman looked unconvinced and Joker had to admit the reaction was not unfounded. "Ehm, be that as it may, my curiosity is positively _peaked_ by your change of heart."

"Good, because I'm not going to tell you."

Joker frowned resentfully. "You really are a monster. A very poorly dressed monster."

Batman glanced down. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Besides _everything?_ The mayo doesn't help."

Bats frowned and dabbed at the stain ineptly with a dirty napkin, smushing the goop further into the fibers.

Joker rolled his eyes and dipped a clean napkin into a water goblet before swooping in. The first thing he did was scoop up the excess and pop it into his mouth. "Mm! Miracle Whip! You can aaalways tell."

Batman stared, eyes open wide, making no move to stop the other man.

"Ca - er, clown got your tongue, Batsy?" No sense bringing that damnable Cat into this, not when he had the Bat in such a _comfortable_ position.

Batman's eyes widened even further at the question, seemingly frozen in place. Joker shrugged and ignored him, dabbing at his firm chest with the damp napkin in a much more competent manner.

"You try getting out _bloodstains_, binky, and eventually condiments become a piece of cake. Whoops, almost missed a bit..."

_"Ahem."_

Blue and green eyes snapped to the doorway. Alfred stood with a freshly made sandwich on his tray. The butler was blatantly unable to make eye contact with either his master or the homicidal clown. The clown which Bruce had allowed to crawl halfway into his lap and was currently pawing at his chest.

"Is that for _me?"_ Joker asked, springing to his feet and rushing over to Alfred, completely ignoring the sudden tension in the room as his bestest enemy refused to make eye contact with the old man. Weren't they a _pair?_

Alfred composed himself quickly. "It is."

"I take back everything I _said_ about the service in this place!" He took a bite and promptly spat it back out all over the floor, the tray, and the butler. "Eugh! What the blazes _is_ this?!"

"Cress. The very best money can buy. _Sir."_

"Take it away, Jeeves!" exclaimed the Joker, turning away with a hand to his brow. He flapped the other hand in Alfred's general direction. "Bring me a steak. _Rare_. Hold the veggies and carbs and whatnot. Just the meat. I want it _bleeding_, you understand?"

Alfred looked to Batman for confirmation. The young master made a weary gesture and the old servant's jaw tightened in anger.

Joker beamed.

"Very good, sir," said Alfred stiffly, clearly against his will. It warmed Joker's heart, it did. Guilt-centric coercion was the _best_.

"I'm going to change," said Batman loudly. He stood up hastily, jostling the table and making all the dishes clatter, before making a very swift and dignified _escape_ from the room. His head poked back in for a moment. "You two _behave_ yourselves." Then he was gone.

Awkward silence reigned, which Joker skillfully ignored.

Alfred turned to the Joker, eyes hooded in distrust veiled by forced civility. "I do wish you would leave Master Bruce out of your sadistic games," he said, as harshly as his station allowed.

"Oh, but _Al_-fie!" Joker threw an arm around the old Brit's shoulders, revelling in the automatic cringe. "A spat without Bats is like bread without spread, hardly _delicious_ at all."

"If you think you can-"

_"Ssteak."_ He placed a hand on each quivering shoulder and shoved the old man into the hallway, delighting at the subsequent crash and sound of swearing.

Joker waited a full six minutes in the empty room, grew bored and decided to take the elevator back down to the batcave.

###

"There you are, Batsy!" Joker leapt away from the computer terminal he'd been attempting to hack without success, face splitting into a semi-sincere smile. "I was wondering when-"

Batman (once again dressed as himself) walked calmly up to him and broke his nose. Joker fell to the ground and Batman broke three ribs with one well-placed kick.

"What," Joker wheezed with a painful laugh, "did I do this time?"

_"You broke Alfred's collarbone,"_ Batman snarled, angrier than the Joker had ever seen him before. For the first time in their prolonged acquaintance, the Joker felt fear _of_ the other man. This time the anger seemed more directed, more... personal.

"I did?"

Another kick and he could feel two more ribs crack.

"I was a _fool_. It will _never_ happen again."

Yet another kick, this time to the already broken ribs. The pain was excruciating, but Joker supposed he should be thankful Bats chose not to break additional bones.

"I didn't _mean_ to. I just pushed him! Come on, Bats. I'm not used to _dealing_ with the elderly."

Another kick. Joker decided silence may be the better strategy.

"You told me," kick, "that he's like my father," kick, "and so help me, you were _right."_ Kick, kick, kick.

Joker coughed up blood. "I asked him to make me _lunch."_ As if that explained everything. "Really wanted... that steak." He groaned and curled in on himself reflexively. This pain was only unbearable because, well, _Batman_. He'd never beat on him like _this_ before. "Wondered what was taking so long..."

"You couldn't _check_ on him?" A vicious kick to the head.

Joker tried to answer coherently through the concussion-induced stars. "Never... checked on anyone...before... Not... fair..."

"You checked on," kick, _"me."_

"Well'ats... _different..."_

Batman paused with his leg pulled back for the next kick. He planted it beside the other foot. Even with his rapidly fading consciousness, Joker could see indecision thrumming through Batman's body.

"Alfred is an extension of myself and should be treated as such."

Joker tried to laugh but the broken ribs just wouldn't let him. _"Now..._ you tell me..."

Batman was still staring down at him as he passed out.

###

Joker awoke with a groan, entire body on fire. It took him three tries to heave himself off the cot. He shuffled slowly to Batman, who was once again planted at the computer terminal. Joker had already determined that he essentially _lived_ there, off duty, so it was no great surprise.

"I break one bone and you break suh-_hix_ of mine?" he asked loudly, incredulously. "How is that _fair?"_

Batman remained unfazed and completely ignored him, fiddling with a device on his desk.

"Hellooo. Batsyyy."

Silence.

"Good lord, are you _sulking_ at me right now?"

Batman continued to ignore him and continued rewiring the sensors of whatever overpriced gizmo he was currently working on.

Joker exhaled harshly, painfully, and crossed his arms, leaning on one hip and refusing to look at the other man. He tapped his foot impatiently. "Fine. Please forgive me and allow me to kiss the hem of your _prodigious_ cape."

Batman jerked his head up, startled, and hissed as he burned his finger on a glob of freshly melted solder.

Joker smirked and relaxed (painfully) into a more feline pose. "Don't hurt yourself on my account. How _ever_ would I go on?"

Batman's face remained rather worryingly blank. "I... can't believe you just apologized. I must be going crazy."

"Too late for that, bumpkin, but no. I didn't apologize. Your illusion is safe and sound."

"Then I have nothing to say to you," said Batman pedantically, turning back to his task.

Joker scowled and snarled. "I'll _kill_ that walking corpse before I apologize to the likes of _you."_

Batman's shoulders twitched and he set all of his tools down. His head bowed. Joker waited. Batman threw a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the table and remaining motionless. An average person would have interpreted the expression as the epitome of blankness, but Joker knew better. The face Batman just threw at him was _wounded_, was _hurt_.

OH BOTHERATION.

Joker seethed. "I'm..."

He could almost _see_ Batman's ears prick with interest, even through the cowl.

"I'm... sss..." Garugh, he just couldn't do it. This just wasn't _fair_.

Batman picked up the soldering iron again, shoulders drooping imperceptibly, to anyone else. Joker didn't know what was more _pathetic_, Batman's actions or the response it elicited in him.

"I'm... ssss-ooorry..." Joker bit his tongue until blood spilled into his mouth, dribbling out the downturned corners, trailing down his chin.

Batman immediately swiveled in his chair, eyes latching instantly onto the blood. "Which room."

"What?" he asked stupidly, pretty brain dead at this point. Apologizing was _exhausting_.

"Upstairs. Which room do you want."

Joker didn't miss a beat, even in his current wounded, confused state. "The one next to yours."

Batman's eyes widened, but all he said was: "Alright." A few minutes of relatively comfortable silence passed. "I still don't understand how it wasn't obvious that you shouldn't hurt Alfred."

"Cultural differences no doubt. Heck, I killed _my_ father."

"You did?" Batman asked quietly, throwing him a sidelong glance that looked almost... _hungry_. "When. Why."

"Well, maybe. Who knows? Not _me_. It's a nice idea though, eh."

A lengthy sigh. "Just... Shut up and let me fix your ribs."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next chapter will be delayed because I've been SERIOUSLY DAWDLING on my primary Walking Dead story. I need to write a couple chapters of it before I can return to this I'M SORRY. Also Jokes is getting far too domesticated for my taste, so next chapter I'll probably have him bust out and idk kill a bunch of babies or something. Sooo yeah ^-^<strong>_

_**You guys and your lovely comments! I lurv you all ;_; Batjokes forever AM I RIGHT**_


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